


Evening the Score

by bladespark



Category: Hades (Video Game 2018)
Genre: Extremely Dubious Consent, M/M, Part of bladespark's main Hades universe, Revenge, Rough Sex, Sexual Coercion, hatefuck
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-13
Updated: 2021-02-13
Packaged: 2021-03-13 01:33:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,914
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29394126
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bladespark/pseuds/bladespark
Summary: Thanatos has stewed for years about what Ares did to him before setting him free from his chains.  So when he finds Ares himself helpless and trapped, he's sure it's time to even the score.  But when you play games with the god of war, you can't guarantee coming out the victor...This is a sequel toFreedom's Price.
Relationships: Ares/Thanatos (Hades Video Game)
Comments: 5
Kudos: 53





	Evening the Score

**Author's Note:**

> Mind the tags. It's not *quite* outright non-con, but is not happy-fluffy either.

Thanatos felt the tug of a fated soul, one of those touched by destiny or power, which he collected personally in order to keep the proper cycle of life and death turning as it ought. He could never have individually collected every single mortal, but he collected kings and poets, gods and priests, and just now demi-gods, the gods’ half-blooded children.

Why a god would ever dally with a mortal Thanatos didn’t understand, but then perhaps the other gods saw mortals differently than he. The other gods received worship and offerings from them, after all. He mostly received only fear, and if there was an offering, it came with a plea for him to stay far away.

He appeared beside the road to Delphi, and after a moment he managed to recognize the godling dying on the road before him. It was Kyknos, the son of Ares. He was long past saving, having been stabbed through the lungs, it seemed, as well as gut-stabbed several times. A slow, and unpleasant death, and Thanatos was happy enough to swing his scythe and simply cut the thread short, sparing Kyknos his suffering.

As he gathered up the thread, a low groan drew his attention to the woods beside the road, and after taking a few steps in that direction, Thanatos suddenly halted in shock.

Ares lay on the ground, nearly upside down, draped over a fallen tree. A short sword was driven through his leg, part way down his shin, at an angle that, if Thanatos knew his anatomy, which he very much did, suggested it had passed between the two bones there, and the hilt was nearly touching his skin, meaning most of the blade was sunk in the wood, pinning Ares thoroughly. Dark ichor coated his leg. Enough of it had been shed to stain some of the tree with reddish-black, too. He’d obviously struggled, opening the wound wider, but had gotten nowhere.

The god of war was not wearing his armor, only a simple chiton. Whatever had happened here, he must have been called by his son unexpectedly. His own sword lay nearby, snapped in two, but Ares wasn’t even wearing its sheath.

Thanatos felt a tiny, cruel smile curl up one corner of his mouth. He would not normally be pleased to find anyone in such a situation. But Ares?

The god of death walked over, halting when he reached Ares’ head, and looking down at the god of war, upside down on the ground before him.

“Well, well, well, what have we here?” Thanatos couldn’t help but laugh, a dark laugh. He’d dreamed of this moment, when he could have Ares “return the favor” and pay for his freedom in sexual coin. He’d never thought it would actually come, but now it seemed to have arrived.

“Thanatos. Pull this out and let me go after that wretched cur Heracles.”

“Ah, is that what this is about?” Thanatos chuckled. “I don’t know, perhaps I like seeing you like this, Ares.”

“Thanatos! He killed my son! This is not a laughing matter!”

“I don’t know. Ares, you seemed to find my inability to do my duty when I was bound earlier to be highly amusing, and I wouldn’t call that a laughing matter.” Thanatos scowled. Years’ worth of bitter re-hashing of that moment hovered in his mind. He hadn’t dwelt on it often, but whenever he was reminded Ares existed, he was inevitably reminded that Ares had used him, forced him to sexual service, merely because he could, because Thanatos had been bound and unable to stop him.

“You would say that, heartless one. What do you know of family?”

“I know plenty!” snapped Thanatos. Then he drew a breath and calmed himself. Ares wouldn’t understand what family among the Chthonic gods was like. “Family or no, though, there’s no point in attempting to pursue Heracles, Ares. He is Zeus’ son, your half-brother, and has the protection of Athena and Apollo. You may be mighty, but not that mighty.”

Ares snarled wordlessly.

“Come now. This is truly a familiar situation, you know. Why last time one of us was trapped and helpless, you seemed to have some quite bold opinions on the price of freedom. I’m not sure it would be right to set you free without demanding…repayment, shall we say?”

Ares’ eyes went wide, then narrowed, as Thanatos looked down at him, standing with feet nearly bracketing the war god’s head.

“Thanatos… You want such a thing at such a time? I will admit you’re right, not even I can fight so many of my fellow gods, but my son is dead, and you are carrying his soul to Hades, where he will not be revived. I must carry his body home, at least, and see to his proper burial. Now is not the time.”

Thanatos looked down at Ares for a long, long moment. He was almost tempted to insist, to say he didn’t give a damn, that if his duty could be put off for Ares’ pleasure, then Ares’ mourning could be put off for his. But…

He sighed, finally. He knew too much of mourning and loss to say such a thing. “Will you swear an oath, then? I will not give you freely what you charged me such a price for.”

Ares closed his eyes for a long moment, then nodded. “I will swear, Thanatos. I swear by my own power, by my father Zeus and his sky, by my mother Hera and her domain, that I will pay you a price such as you paid me, as soon as I may, if you free me now.”

“Very well.” Thanatos took the sword’s hilt in his hand. A hard tug proved that it was indeed sunk too deeply for even a god’s strength to simply pull it out. Heracles was known for his unnatural physical prowess, so that wasn’t surprising. The god of death had a few other tricks up his sleeve, though. He gripped his scythe more tightly, and drew on the primal concept of peaceful death, the kind of death he had dominion over above all. Death of old age, the corruption inherent to mortal things. He poured this concept into the bronze blade, and it immediately turned green with corrosion.

Ares groaned as the blooming verdigris no doubt grated on his raw flesh, but Thanatos only smiled at the sound and continued. Soon the blade was rotted half away, and with a sharp jerk Thanatos snapped it off at the point where it was driven into the tree, prompting a pained cry from Ares, then yanked it from Ares’ leg. “There. You are free.”

“I’m not sure I can thank you for it,” said Ares as he slowly got to his feet.

“I don’t expect you to,” said Thanatos, and then he took himself elsewhere, leaving the god of war to deal with his dead son’s body.

****

The summons Thanatos felt as he sat in his home, reading a scroll, was a peculiar one. He occasionally made tokens, though not very often, for those who’d earned some favor from him. They could be used to summon him, but this didn’t have the feel of those. It was something else, something blood-bright, sun-bright, mountain-view-bright. It smacked of Olympus, in other words, but Thanatos answered it all the same.

He found himself in a hall of white marble, streaked with veins of dark red like dried blood. Standing before him, dressed in only a simple chiton, with neither weapons nor armor, was Ares, the god of war.

“My affairs are in order, Death, and I owe you a debt. I am ready to pay it now,” he said grimly.

Thanatos blinked for a moment, then found himself smiling. “Excellent. I cannot stay here, so you must come with me, god of war.”

Ares nodded. “I will come.”

Thanatos stepped close, finding himself looking up at Ares. Ares was not that much taller, but enough that he tipped his head down to meet Thanatos’ gaze, and his build was heaver too, given the work he did. Thanatos braced himself, and wrapped his arms tightly around the hated Olympian, pulling him to Thanatos’ home, the liminal realm between life and death that belonged to him alone.

They appeared in the atrium there, the “sky” above showing the black void of oblivion mingling with the red waters of the Styx.

Thanatos immediately let go of Ares and stepped back. Ares looked around curiously, then fixed his eyes on Thanatos. “So.”

“So. I think you should be on your knees, god of war.”

Ares seemed to accept this calmly, sinking down to kneel on the cold stone floor of the atrium. Thanatos found his eyes going wide as he looked down at his hated enemy, kneeling easily before him.

Finding himself unaccountably nervous, Thanatos let go of his scythe and, after a moment’s hesitation, began removing his armor as well. Ares waited patiently as he did. When he was down to only his chiton, Thanatos came and stood in front of the kneeling god of war again. He’d been anticipating this day for years. Why was he so nervous still?

Still, he stepped in close, lifting the hem of his chiton. “I believe you know what you should do,” he said simply.

“Of course.” Ares cupped a strong, sinewy hand around Thanatos’ cock, stroking it gently at first, then more firmly as it hardened. Thanatos rested a hand on Ares’ head, daring to let his fingers work through the other god’s short hair, and tried to relax into the pleasure of it. This was what he wanted.

After a long moment of stroking, Thanatos felt a spike of irritation. He wanted to get this over with. He tightened his hand in Ares’ hair. “Stop fooling around. Open your mouth.”

Ares wordlessly obeyed, parting his lips for Thanatos’ cock. Thanatos cupped his other hand around the back of Ares’ head and urged him forward, until the war god had taken his full length. Some of the thrill he’d been expecting came to him, then. He could spend his bitter hate on Ares, even if it could never undo what had been done to him.

With a low growl Thanatos started thrusting, fucking Ares’ mouth. Ares made a startled sound, then his eyes rolled back and he started working his tongue along Thanatos’ cock, making muffled, choked noises with each thrust. Thanatos was silent save for his harsh breathing, growing faster as his pleasure built. Nervousness had fled and all he knew was using Ares as Ares had used him.

He came swift and hard, a rush of white-hot bliss instantly followed by a rush of shame. What had he just done? Ares didn’t pull back, though, nor did he spit as Thanatos could so vividly remember doing, but stayed down on Thanatos’ cock, drinking down every drop. When he did pull back, just as Thanatos was about to step back himself, his discomfort and guilt increasing as the last of his orgasm faded, Ares let out a little sigh that sounded…satisfied?

His eyes were lidded and his cheeks flushed dark as he looked up at Thanatos. “I believe we’re now even, oh Death.”

Thanatos blinked down at him. “Ah… Yes.”

Ares rose slowly, and Thanatos was suddenly intensely aware both of how close they were standing, and of how much larger than him Ares was. He hesitated, wanting to step back, and yet not wanting to yield or show fear. Then Ares grabbed the front of his chiton, hauling him in, and Thanatos was braced for an attack, but instead was kissed, hot and hard, the taste of Ares iron and bitter-sweet salt, the taste of himself on Ares’ tongue. Thanatos shuddered with it, and pulled back.

“Ares!”

Ares laughed. “Your seed I may have but not your kisses?”

Thanatos scowled. How had this all been turned around on him so instantly? “I am not looking for a _lover_.”

“Good. That would be Aphrodite’s domain, not mine.”

“And what has War to do with kisses?” snapped Thanatos.

“What has Death?” Ares laughed. “Though I suppose mortals say you do, don’t they? The kiss of death? I find it sweet, you know. As for the kiss of War, did I not say that the victor in battle may despoil those he has defeated? I have fulfilled my oath, but I enjoy your taste, oh Death. Despoil me further, if you will.” He held his arms out in open invitation.

“So this is merely a game you play, is that it?” growled Thanatos, suddenly having a flicker of strange understanding.

“But of course? What else is a game, but a thing of two sides, with one defeated and one victorious? What else is coupling, for that matter? They are the same. I played with you before, and relished being the victor. Now that I am defeated, I can still take pleasure in it. It is unbecoming to be a poor loser.”

Thanatos drew in a sharp breath, feeling relief and pain and anger all twist in a vast tangle within him. It seemed he hadn’t committed any offense he should feel guilty of against Ares. Yet it also seemed Ares had no idea whatsoever that he’d traumatized Thanatos, all those years ago. It was all a _game_. A brutal, even violent game, but still a game.

“What if somebody else doesn’t want to play your game, Ares?”

Ares chuckled and waved a hand in dismissal. “Everyone plays, Thanatos. War is nearly as inevitable as Death. For we immortals it is even more so.”

“I see.”

“I’m glad you do,” said Ares, and then he was stepping forward again, pulling Thanatos in to kiss him. Thanatos gave a momentary jolt, a brief struggle, then let out a muffled gasp as Ares pushed his tongue into Thanatos’ mouth. It was overwhelming, and he found himself going limp in Ares’ arms.

“Mmm,” said Ares as he gave Thanatos space to breathe again. “Perhaps now I shall be conqueror. You don’t seem to be putting up much of a fight.”

“I… You…” Thanatos struggled for composure. His body felt alive with conflicting sensations, and he had no idea if his pulse was pounding in fear or arousal. “I am Death, not War. I do not _fight_ ,” he finally said.

Ares chuckled, still holding Thanatos close, the sound resonating through his body as much as through his ears. “Perhaps you should learn.”

With a frustrated snarl Thanatos finally shoved Ares back, though he truly pushed himself out of the larger god’s embrace more than he moved Ares. “Perhaps you should learn to respect Death, Ares. My domain is not a _game_ , and I am not lightly toyed with.”

The look Ares gave him was frankly puzzled. “I do respect you, Thanatos. Your domain is essential to mine! The sheer amount of fear you cause among mortals far outstrips what little fear they have of me! I would not bother to play with an opponent less worthy.” He looked at Thanatos with a frank gaze, and added, his voice softening ever so slightly. “Death also is beautiful, as war can never be.”

Thanatos felt himself flushing brightly, confused and flattered and still with his heart racing fast. He hadn’t expected any of this. But somehow his racing heart was starting to feel more like desire than fear.

Ares stepped forward again, one strong arm going around Thanatos’ waist. Ares caught his wrist, and he found his hand pressed against the skirt of Ares’ chiton, against the shaft that tented it up. “Feel how much I long to conquer you once more, oh Death,” he whispered in Thanatos’ ear, then bit it, teeth closing roughly on the tender tip of it.

“Ah…” Thanatos couldn’t help the gasping moan of pleasure and pain. It had been so long since he’d felt anything like this. Surely there was no point in resisting? Game or not, respect or not, Thanatos was sure Ares would take what he wanted of him, so why not give it, and take what he could of pleasure in turn?

So instead of struggling, he slid his hand beneath Ares’ skirt, and found a certain kind of satisfaction in the way Ares’ eyes went wide, in the way he gasped as Thanatos curled his hand around Ares’ cock. Thanatos stroked there firmly, letting his thumb rub over the head, gathering what pre he could to smear down the shaft and slick it in his grip. He paid particular attention to how his fingers pressed along the underside and just beneath the head. He felt Ares suddenly sagging, a hand braced on Thanatos’ shoulder as his knees went weak.

“Oh, well done… Ah… Perhaps you shall be the victor after all,” said Ares breathlessly, rocking his hips into Thanatos’ grip.

Thanatos grinned at that, a feral sort of feeling sweeping over him. Perhaps he would be. He pressed himself to Ares, tipping his head back to give the war god a bruisingly hard kiss, his tongue pressing forward insistently, and with a groan Ares parted his lips and surrendered to it. Thanatos claimed Ares’ mouth as if in battle, his tongue forcing itself in, tasting, wrestling Ares’ own tongue back. Ares moaned into it.

Thanatos nearly growled into it, pushing against Ares, heedless of the war god’s larger size, his hand squeezing firmly on Ares’ cock. Ares surged back, though, and suddenly Thanatos found his feet going out from under him, Ares having swept his own foot behind them, as if this were truly a fight. He yelped as he fell to the hard stone floor of the atrium. Ares showed no mercy, falling atop him, driving the breath from his lungs, grabbing at his wrists to pin his hands down beside him.

Ares kissed him again, as hard and demanding as Thanatos had been, and his hands were so tight on Thanatos’ wrists that they hurt. He squirmed beneath the god of war, fighting, trying to get free, trying to find some way to regain the upper hand, but got nowhere.

He changed tactics when Ares broke from the kiss, and lifted his head to bite at Ares’ throat, still writhing, but making a point to press himself against the hot hardness he could feel at thigh level that was Ares’ cock.

That earned him a groan, but Ares wasn’t moved enough by either thing to let Thanatos go. Indeed, he sat back just enough so that he could pull Thanatos’ hands up above his head, and gathered his wrists into one large, strong hand. Thanatos bucked under Ares, fighting harder, certain that with just one hand holding him he could get free, but Ares obviously knew what he was doing. His grip kept Thanatos’ wrists pinned securely. “There. I believe I have gotten the better of you, oh Death.”

“For the moment,” snapped Thanatos.

Ares only laughed and pressed yet another hot, hard kiss on Thanatos. Thanatos couldn’t help himself; he stopped struggling and moaned into the kiss, then moaned again as Ares ground his hips down against Thanatos, letting him feel his erection. The hand that wasn’t keeping Thanatos pinned yanked Thanatos’ chiton up, out of the way, and did the same to Ares’, letting them meet skin to skin. Thanatos could feel the hard heat of Ares’ cock against his thighs, and the dampness of his pre smearing there.

Ares wasn’t done yet, though. He broke off the kiss and shifted, moving his hips to align with Thanatos’. His hand curled around both their cocks, holding them together, and Thanatos gasped, then started rocking his hips to thrust into the war god’s hand. Ares growled low in his throat and bit Thanatos again, roughly, just where neck and shoulder met. Thanatos cried out, pain shocking through him.

Ares only bit him again, even harder. Thanatos writhed, overwhelmed, the pain more than he would have thought he could bear, and yet if anything it only added to his arousal. He was sure Ares would draw blood any moment.

Thanatos whimpered as Ares refused to let up, nearly in tears, struggling against Ares’ grip. Yet still he kept moving his hips, chasing pleasure as an anodyne to pain.

After it seemed like Thanatos couldn’t bear it anymore, and then another twisted eternity of pleasure-pain after that, Ares finally stopped biting, and lapped over the spot. Thanatos moaned, driven beyond thought, feeling an incredible, heady endorphin rush fill him. “Ah… Ares…”

“Yesssss, there you are, my spoils of war. Yes.” Ares’ voice was a hiss of pleasure; a low, velvety growl that shot through Thanatos and made him arch beneath the war god, suddenly on the edge. Ares growled again, hand tightening around their joined cocks, hips rocking, thrusting into his own hand, against Thanatos.

“Ah!” Thanatos shuddered, unable to hold back even if he’d wanted to. Ares thrust faster against him, hand squeezing his cock, and with a wordless cry Thanatos came.

Ares growled again, continuing to thrust even as the last dribbles of seed leaked from Thanatos’ cock, as Thanatos suddenly whined and tried to pull back, overstimulated. Ares did not give Thanatos any mercy, he only groaned, one hand squeezing Thanatos’ wrists together hard enough to leave bruises, the other squeezing their cocks almost as hard. Then he came with a low grunt, seed pumping out to join the mess Thanatos had already made all over himself.

For a moment Ares stayed bent over Thanatos, still holding his hands pinned, panting. Then he leaned in and gave Thanatos one more hard, lip-bruising kiss, and rose.

He stood, looking down at Thanatos, who lay, dazed and blinking, covered in both their cum, trying to gather his wits together. “I believe I am once again the victor,” said Ares, his smile sharp and satisfied. “But if you ever wish to attempt to even the score once more, call me any time.”

Then, in a flare of red light and a sound like battlefield screams, he was gone.

Thanatos gave up on trying to get up for now and lay there, eyes closed, body trembling with aftershocks from the intensity of it all.

After a long, long time he pried himself to his feet and staggered to the bathing room to clean up. As he did, he tried to sort out his feelings.

Somehow, despite what Ares had once again done to him, his hatred had vanished. He understood, at least a little, how Ares saw the world, and why he’d acted the way he had. And…it had been good. A little too much, and not something he would have asked for, but good. In some ways perhaps the best sex he’d ever had, in fact.

Still, though, he was quite sure he would not be summoning Ares to try to even the score ever again. The only way to win against Ares in any sort of war, even one such as this, would be to refuse to play the game.

So, he filed this experience away, to pull out and remember the good bits for later. Many, many years later Thanatos considered himself the final victor over Ares when he found a lover—and a love—in Zagreus, who could give him every bit of that wonderfully intense pleasure-pain, without having once given in to the urge to summon Ares and lose to him once again.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading.
> 
> If you'd like to see me talk about writing, my works in progress, other creative endeavors, and my life in general, check out [my Dreamwidth blog](https://bladespark.dreamwidth.org/) or my [twitter](https://twitter.com/bladespark). I also now run a [multiship, adults-only, kink-friendly Hades server](https://discord.gg/zSUcd9s5rt). Feel free to join!


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